


Watching Over You

by HisAngelThursday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sleep talking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HisAngelThursday/pseuds/HisAngelThursday
Summary: Cas enjoys cuddling with Dean, but must also contend with Dean's unfortunate tendencies towards talking in his sleep.





	

Angels don’t need sleep. But truthfully, Castiel would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the prolonged period of closeness all the same. 

Angels don’t experience boredom the same way humans do, and just as he had been able to remain completely stationary in the same spot for four hours all those years before, it was really no chore to lay motionless in bed every night while Dean got his allotted eight hours of shut-eye.

Indeed, he had come to take comfort in listening to the steady heave of his breaths, counting the soft thuds of his heartbeat, taking the odd glimpse into his dreams whenever he saw his eyes twitching beneath their lids. 

Some were sweet, recollections of Mary and childhood memories and whatnot, while others were decidedly not so: though Dean had long since left Hell and all its unpleasantries behind, it seems his dreams were still not exempt from them. 

And as for instances like the one in which the camels were running loose on an airplane, well. Cas just wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Another thing about Dean was that he had a tendency to talk in his sleep. Most often, Cas found this endearing, listening to him spew nonsensical gibberish about rabbits and rainbow slinkies and such. 

Other times, however, Dean’s sleep-talk took a decidedly sinister turn. 

One night, Cas had been absorbed in his own private pontifications, when he felt Dean’s hand grasping roughly at his shoulder. 

“Dean, what are you-” Cas started to inquire, only to be cut off by Dean’s free hand clapping over his mouth. 

“Do you see it?” he asked in a hushed voice, staring at the vacant wall on the other side of the room. 

Cas’s brow rumpled. “See what?” he tried to say, but all that came out was a garbled noise muffled into Dean’s palm.

“The barbed wire!” Dean hissed, seeming frustrated by Cas’s obliviousness. 

Cas looked confusedly towards the empty wall, then back to Dean, at which point he noticed the vacant look in Dean’s eyes. 

Cas sighed, batting away Dean’s hand. “You are dreaming,” he informed him. “Go back to sleep, Dean. There is no barbed wire.” 

“But the wIRE-” Dean started to protest. 

Cas, seeing that he was growing agitated, pressed two fingertips to Dean’s forehead. Immediately, Dean flopped placidly back against his pillow, and Cas sighed as he settled back down beside him.

It seemed being an angel did come in handy after all. 

For weeks afterwards, nights passed without further disturbances, aside from a few incidents of snoring. This peaceful stretch did not last long, however, and before Cas knew it, Dean was once again nudging him on the shoulder at around three AM.

“He’s here,” he muttered cryptically, while staring at their bedroom door.

“No one’s here, Dean. I would have sensed it, if-” Cas started to explain, but a quiet snore informed him that Dean had already gone back to sleep.

Cas sighed. Had he been mortal, Dean would have taken at least a decade off of his life by now.

There were several other instances of Dean’s sleep talking, including one incident in which he rolled over and announced, “You don’t know what’s out there. You don’t know what’s in the swamp.” 

This, however, could be fairly easily explained by the bizarre sea creature they’d had to relocate a day or two prior, after it kept eating local residents’ pets. 

Cas had begun to reply that he, in fact, DID know what was in the swamp, but that it had since been transported to the open ocean, before realizing that Dean was still asleep and any attempts at rational conversation would likely prove futile. 

But by far the most memorable instance to date was one night when Dean wordlessly wrapped Cas up in his arms and kissed him tenderly on the lips. 

“Have a great day at work, baby,” he murmured. 

Cas blinked, and opened his mouth to inquire as to what job would reasonably expect employees to show up for work at this time of the night, when the next thing he knew Dean was unceremoniously shoving him out of bed and onto the floor. 

Cas landed on his backside with a soft thump, and watched, dumbfounded, as Dean proceeded to wrap himself in all the blankets and go back to sleep without further explanation.

He picked himself up, dusting off his favorite pajama bottoms (the ones with the honeybees on them), and situated himself on the side of the bed, looking down fondly at the hunter sleeping there.

Perhaps, had Dean’s life been less tumultuous, he would have been a sounder sleeper. But sadly, it had not.

Dean had been through more than any human being should ever have to experience, and Castiel was all too aware of this: he’d put him back together, both figuratively and otherwise, healed his wounds and made him whole again. Now, only the scars remained. 

Taking this into account, Cas could easily weather such small transgressions. 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas murmured. “I’ll watch over you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this amazing tumblr post. (http://uhrair.tumblr.com/post/150680516620/uhrair-my-boyfriend-talks-in-his-sleep-and-i)


End file.
